


Knot as Planned

by CharWright5



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Stiles, First Time, Getting Together, High School Student Derek Hale, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, Love Confessions, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski in Heat, and they were ROOMMATES, awkward virgins, first heat, oh god they were roommates!, surprise heat, they have no idea what they're doing pls help them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 23:20:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18020396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharWright5/pseuds/CharWright5
Summary: The Alpha-Omega Alliance was staying overnight in Sacramento, preparing to take part in a rally for Omega rights. Meaning Derek was having to share a room with his crush, Stiles. Who just happened to hit his first Heat ever...





	Knot as Planned

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maevewren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maevewren/gifts).



> Commission for the wonderful Jenny, who requested high school ABO, room sharing, and surprise Heats, so WAH-LAH! Hope everyone enjoys!

The Alpha-Omega Alliance was a school sponsored club that met every Tuesday in Mr Yukimura's classroom on the second floor of Beacon Hills High. The history teacher was the advisor for the club dedicated to cultivating equality between dynamics as well as fighting for Omega rights, although he acted more as a supervisor, sitting in the back at his desk and grading papers while Lydia Martin—a junior and a prime example of Head Alpha In Charge—led the group. She commanded over them with a sense of authority and compassion that made it easy to see why she was unanimously voted club president—and why no one ran against her in the first place.

The club both organized and attended rallies, leading a walk-out for International Omegas Day, raising money for an Omega's legal defense as it hit the news that they'd been beaten and raped and had killed their Alpha Mate for it, speaking at meetings in front of the school board for stricter punishment for Alpha harassment, even teaming up with other high schools for that last one. And now they'd heard about a big rally for Omega Rights taking place in Sacramento to urge people to vote for a proposed law making Mate rape a crime.

As Treasurer, it was Derek Hale's job to organize finances and ensure they had enough money to make the trip. And when they weren't quite there, he and the Vice President—an Omega named Stiles Stilinski, who was every bit as smart as Lydia, as well as creative and organized to the point of borderline OCD—teamed up to organize and host a bake sale that doubled as a fundraiser as well as helped get the word out regarding the upcoming proposal.

Which, wasn't anything too bad. Derek had helped his mom out with similar events as far back as he could remember. It was why he'd run for treasurer in the first place, why he'd won, because he was a whizz at math and finances, could figure out the minimum of what we needed as well as the maximum, the rest of the money going into the club's account that he was in charge of. It was pretty basic shit.

The problem was who he was working with. It was nothing against Stiles, who also had experience with campaigns, watching and helping as his father ran for sheriff—and repeatedly won. The Omega was competent, smart, organized, not to mention incredibly passionate about the causes they were fighting for—which made sense, given the personal stake he had in them.

Really, when Derek thought about it, Stiles wasn't even the problem. It was Derek's crush on Stiles that was the issue. The guy was beautiful, which... which Derek didn't even think at first. No, when they met a little over two years prior, when Stiles was a freshman and first joined the AOA, Derek thought he was cute, with his upturned nose and brown eyes and buzzed hair. But the more the Alpha looked at him, the more he found himself entranced by the little things, getting lost in thought. Those eyes that weren't the ordinary brown Derek had originally thought they were, but a hue that could be a warm chocolate in low light or a burning whiskey in the sun. Moles that should've detracted from his looks but instead formed a downward pattern that Derek wanted to follow with his mouth. Skin that wasn't pale but wasn't tan, but something in between, light enough to where any mark or bite or hickey would stand out sharply. Hair now longer, usually styled in a messy bedhead fashion that hadn't been artfully tousled but was genuine "I woke up too late and didn't have time to fix it as I rushed to school, still finding time to hit up a Starbucks on the way".

And his scent...

God Derek wanted to drown in it. Warm maple bourbon that made him dizzy drunk, that reminded him of warm Sunday mornings, that infected his brain with images of the two of them curled up under Derek's quilt, wrapped up in one another, trading lazy kisses and soft sighs as the world melted away.

Never gonna happen, of course. Derek was pretty sure Stiles was mooning after Lydia and given how he often carried a hint of her strawberry scent on him, he had a feeling the sentiment was returned—at least to some degree.

Still, that didn't stop him from pining over Stiles—in his younger sister's words anyway—getting distracted by his lips and how often there was something between them—a pen, his hoodie string, the straw from whatever fast food joint he'd hit up after school before the meeting was set to begin—imagining how they'd feel against his own. Getting distracted by always moving hands as they gesticulated his every word, long fingers that made Derek wonder how they'd feel entwined with his blunter, thicker digits. Getting distracted by his scent and the way it vacillated wildly with a wide range of emotions and how there was this triangle of moles right near his scent gland that Derek thought would be the perfect landing zone to bury his nose and just _breathe_ the guy in.

Things got worse when they were working out the motel bookings, how many rooms they needed and who would be in each one. They _could _assign rooms so that girls and boys, Alphas and Omegas were separated but Derek knew there was no point, that they'd all switch on their own. He wasn't about to fool himself by acting as though couples wouldn't want to pair up, that there was any other choice but to put them together. Scott and Allison, Boyd and Erica, Kira and Malia, Corey and Mason, Liam and Hayden, Danny and Ethan, Lydia and Stiles, himself as the odd man out, Mr Yukimura with his own room.__

__The only surprise came when he was writing out said list and Stiles commented about the two of them being the only single people and therefore roomies. Apparently Derek had been wrong about the Omega being with Lydia..._ _

__Which..._ _

__Which made his face inflame and his skin tingle and his heart pound and his stomach flip. But just because Stiles was available didn't mean anything would happen between them. His crush could still be entirely unrequited._ _

__Still, he could daydream about confessing his feelings and having them returned, about asking the Omega on a date, about kissing him and holding his hand during the upcoming rally._ _

__Except he didn't._ _

__He just kept all of it to himself._ _

__He kept to himself during the ride down to Sacramento in the bus they'd rented, headphones on and music playing as he read the Jack Carr novel he'd been trying to get into for months. He kept to himself as Mr Yukimura checked them in and handed out room keys, looking like he disapproved of the arrangements but knowing—just as Derek had—that there was no way to prevent the bonded pairs from getting together after he headed to bed. He kept to himself when he and Stiles reached their room, the Omega calling dibs on first shower._ _

__He most definitely kept to himself after that, practically forcing himself not to think about what Stiles was up to behind the locked bathroom door, not to think about the time he'd caught sight of Stiles' abdomen when he lifted his tee to wipe sweat off his face during a particularly hot day outside during a fundraiser._ _

__Nope, nope, nope._ _

__Derek made himself focus on the room itself, on the pale yellow walls and cherry furniture and burgundy linens. There were two double beds, a fact that Derek had checked nearly half a dozen times when booking the room, all to ensure there wouldn't be any cliche awkward "there's only one bed, guess we'll have to share it" situations that always seemed to arise in movies or tv shows or fanfiction. A little part of him regretted it, hated that he'd denied himself the chance to sleep beside Stiles, the excuse to wake up "accidentally" spooning him. Golden opportunity wasted._ _

__But then he'd think about the reality of sleeping beside the Omega he was crushing on and what it would be like to actually hold him and Derek's heart began to race and his ears grew lava hot and his skin tingled all over. He'd probably combust if he was able to touch the guy. God only knew what sort of awkward morning wood situation would pop up—literally, pun intended—and damage any sort of camaraderie they had developed by proving that Alphas only thought with their knots and only saw Omegas as sex objects and breeding tools. They weren't people, just a receptacle for the seed and a vessel to grow pups. It was the exact mindset the AOA was trying to eradicate and the last thing Derek wanted to do was make it seem as though he thought the same way._ _

__A romantic relationship was probably, definitely not in the cards for he and Stiles but a friendship was possible and Derek would take would he could get from the Omega._ _

__So he behaved, kept his thoughts pure as he settled on the bed closest to the door and found a _CSI_ marathon on tv, knowing both he and Stiles were fans of the show. Derek turned the volume up to drown out the sounds of running water and prayed he could make it through the weekend without incident._ _

__Was gonna take a miracle, that was for damn sure._ _

__Especially when Stiles came out the bathroom looking way too goddamn soft and comfortable for his own good. The hair he'd grown out over the summer was product free and towel dried, ruffled and mussy and practically begging for Derek to run his fingers through. The gray t-shirt he had on was surprisingly free of any graphic or logo and was a size or two too big, swallowing his lithe frame. His blue plaid pajama pants looked well-worn, frayed around the bottom hems and faded on the knees, a fact that Derek didn't ruminate on. Thick socks covered Stiles' feet and the Alpha remembered learning about how Omegas tend to run colder, how Stiles was practically always layered up for warmth._ _

__But most of all, Stiles' scent was... well, it was stronger, a result of both scrubbing himself clean of any that had rubbed off on him over the day, a lack of deodorant or gunk in his hair, and the removal of scent blocking patches from his glands. Derek curled his fingers into fists in order to stay put on the bed, to not rush over and drape himself over the Omega, to cover himself in that warm maple bourbon aroma the way he was so goddamn tempted to. That was something only Mates did, only those who were Bonded or at the very least Courting. Sure, he'd seen Scott swipe a hand over Stiles to mark him as protected but it was always in a friendly way, always just to make sure no one fucked with his Omega best bro._ _

__Derek most definitely was not thinking friendly thoughts or had best bro intentions. Yes, he wanted to protect the Omega, his instincts screaming for it despite the knowledge that Stiles could take care of himself, but he wanted so much more than what he'd be allowed._ _

__So he excused himself to the bathroom for a shower of his own, one much colder than the condensation on the mirror led him to believe Stiles' had been, and hoped silently rubbing one out to the lingering remnants of the Omega's scent would get him through the night._ _

____

~*~*~*~*~

The sounds were what first woke Derek up and it took his sleep heavy brain a few minutes to figure out what was going on.

He wasn't at home, a fact he ascertained by the too small pillow and too scratchy duvet coupled with a sheet that smelled of nothing rather than his mom's preferred mountain fresh scented detergent. A hotel, the rally in Sacramento, the room he was sharing with Stiles.

Stiles, who was currently tossing and turning, legs shifting and arms flopping, blankets and sheets rustling as he struggled to get comfortable. Probably what woke Derek up, so used to being alone in his room, no other real disturbances. Or maybe it was the whimpers and whines leaving him, an Omega in distress calling out and hitting an Alpha's instinct to take care and protect, even while he's unconscious and unaware.

Roughing at his face, Derek tried to wake himself up enough to be coherent, to ask Stiles if he was okay, to find out if there was anything he could do to help. Only...

Only he had no idea what to do. The Omega's scent was full of anxiety and frustration, more than likely due to some form of nightmare, and Derek honestly had no clue how to help with those. Did he let the guy keep sleeping? Did he wake him up? Did he use his scent to try and calm him, pet him as he slept, squeeze his neck in a way that was supposed to ease Omegas?

God he was so ill prepared for all of this, so out of his depth. His lack of experience with dating, with Omegas in general, was rendering him utterly useless, and all he could think about was how Stiles must be suffering and how shitty he felt as a result of it.

Blinking, Derek turned his head to the left, to Stiles' bed, to source of the negative chemosignals hanging in the air, able to see thanks to adjusted eyes and the orange glow of the street lamp outside fighting its way through the slats of the blinds. Stiles was on his back, legs scissoring, shirt and socks gone and covers kicked down to the end of the bed. The Omega let out another whine as his head thrashed on his pillow, as he grabbed at the mattress then the sheets then the pillow, then...

"Fuck." The swear was soft and low but not lacking in frustration and desperation. Stiles raised his fists to his face and dug them into his eyes, drawing one leg up so his leg was bent then straightening it back out a minute later. He sounded as rough as his actions and Derek felt something in him break, felt a distressed whine of his own catch in his throat and he swallowed hard to rid himself of it.

"Stiles?" he called out cautiously, gently, rolling onto his side and propping himself up on an elbow. His voice was rough from sleep but he didn't bother clearing it, more caught up in what was happening on the other bed.

Stiles was clearly awake, so no need to debate on whether to rouse him from sleep or not. But it didn't answer anything about what was wrong, why he was awake. The Omega had drifted off before Derek had, after a lengthy discussion over the dynamics of Sidle and Grissom and how their relationship factored into it, missing the end of one of Derek's fave episodes where Hodges—who was a cocky, yet needy Omega if Derek ever saw—had led the other lab techs in investigating the Miniature Killer's...well, miniatures. Last he'd known, Stiles had been perfectly fine, albeit breathing loudly through his gaping mouth.

Now however... clearly an entirely different story.

His brow furrowed into a concerned frown and he tried to put out a wave of calming pheromones without being pushy or invasive. "You okay?" Derek asked, swallowing hard once more.

Stiles shook his head vehemently against the pillow and it was then that Derek realized the Omega was practically panting, starving for air. "Hot," he answered. "So fuggin' hot."

Shit.

Derek practically shot up at that, shoving his blanket back as he rode to his feet, reaching out to click on the lamp situated on the nightstand between their two beds. A whine left Stiles as he jerked his head away, Derek squinting against even the dull light as he stepped over.

"Can I—?" he began then trailed off, not sure what he was asking for but being granted it anyway as Stiles nodded, head turning back to him with his eyes scrunched tight. His cheeks were ruddy and a thin sheen of sweat covered him, making his scent even stronger, and as Derek touched the Omega's forehead with his hand, a guttural groan left Stiles.

Which...

Which combined with the way Stiles' entire body undulated off the bed and his mouth hung slack and his head shifted to get more contact... Yeah, Derek would be lying if he said it didn't send sparks down his spine to his cock.

Stiles' eyes burst open and Derek was greeted with the sight of glowing gold orbs, the Omegan part of him taking over. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and Derek's eyes followed the movement, dick twitching in interest inside his sweats.

"Need it," Stiles rumbled absently, wrapping long fingers around Derek's wrist then tugging his hand away from his forehead to his bare chest. The Alpha felt his heart speed up, felt overheated skin under his palm, felt the heavy rise and fall of an Omega panting. "Need _you_."

"Fuck," Derek breathed out, inhaling deep to steady suddenly frazzled nerves, and...

And catching Stiles' scent, the changes in it. Yes, it was still that same warm maple bourbon, except now it was even stronger, thicker, clogging Derek's lungs as it saturated the air. It was also sweeter, making Derek's teeth ache and his head buzz. But more importantly, were the underlying chemosignals his instincts were able to pick apart: the hint of distress that had originally woken him, the heady note of arousal, need and desire and want. It sank into his blood, making it rush down south, his cock springing up to half-hard and showing no signs of going limp any time soon.

Fuck, and he thought the guy had smelled good before. It was nothing compared to this. His hips bucked at the images it produced, of burying his head between Omegan thighs and lapping at slick, tasting and scenting him right at the source. He'd bite into his flesh, leave his mark as he ate him out, pulling out delicious sounds out that would only rival the smell of him.

Fuck. Now he was fully hard, cock stuff and proud as it tented his sweats, as he stood beside the bed holding an Omega...

An Omega in _Heat_.

Oh. Oh no.

"Fuck," he breathed out again, mostly out of a lack of knowing what else to say. What else _could_ he say really? Shouldn't Stiles know what was going on? He was the Omega and therefore more experienced with all of this. He should know what to do and say and think.

Okay, yes, think. Thinking was good. Thinking was... not really something Derek was all that capable of. Not at that moment anyway. Not beyond anything involving how _good_ Stiles smelled, how aroused and fertile and needy and welcoming and... And god it would be so easy to just... slip off his sweats, rid Stiles of his pants and...

And nothing. Not only did Derek not have consent for any of that, but chances were he never would. And even if through some miracle Stiles ask the Alpha to take care of him during this delicate time, Derek had no idea what to do.

Okay, yeah, in theory he did. Open Stiles up and stretch him out, slide his dick in, thrust until he knotted and they both came. But he got the feeling there was more to it than that, that there was an art to it. After all, it was possible to be bad at sex and considering Derek's experience maxed out at making out and a little grinding, he obviously has no clue how to make it good. Especially since said minimal experience was with a female and three years ago.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Okay, he was okay, Stiles was gonna be okay. He just... He didn't know what. Use his words, that's what Derek needed to do. He couldn't help if he didn't know how.

Stiles was still dragging Derek's hand down his torso and the Alpha exerted enough strength to make them pause, splaying his fingers over a stomach that was more defined than he remembered it being the last time he'd gotten a peek. Right, shit, focus. Derek kept his eyes on the younger man's face, ignored the whines Stiles was letting loose and the way he was rolling his hips. He pressed down hard enough to make the Omega still and locked eyes.

"Stiles, I need you to focus and tell me what you need for your Heat. Did you pack any suppressants or d'you want me to try and find a twenty-four pharmacy to grab you some?"

Gold faded to brown, Stiles' irises returning to their usual hue. Yet they were cloudy with arousal, brow furrowed in confusion, and he swallowed hard before croaking out a "what?"

Clearly he was already sinking into his Heat, brain foggy and unable to follow the conversation at hand.

Sliding his hand free, Derek cupped Stiles' face in both, lowering himself down so he was seated on the edge of the mattress. A soft, pleased smile formed on Stiles' face, making Derek's heart race and chest puff in pride at the knowledge he'd made the Omega happy in some way, only to knock it away at the realization that it was nothing but instincts.

"Your Heat," he repeated, putting more force behind the words and watching as they managed to get through to Stiles. "Where are your suppressants?"

It was another brief moment of hesitation before Stiles' eyes went wide and he gasped as he bolted up to a sitting position. Derek dropped his hands, biting back a whine at how the distress in the younger man's scent grew stronger, more prevalent.

"No, no, no," Stiles muttered to himself, elbow on a drawn up knee, heel of his palm digging into his forehead, eyes scrunched tight. "I can't—there's no way—fuck, I—I can't—" His ramble was cut off by a whine and Derek gave in to the instinct of scooting closer and cupping the back of the Omega's neck with his hand, squeezing in reassurance.

"Talk to me, Stiles," he urged quietly. "I can't help if I don't know what you need."

Hand dropped forcefully, Stiles raised his head to look at Derek with watery eyes and a trembling bottom lip. "I've never—I don't—" Another whine, this one more frustrated than anxious. "This is my first Heat."

Oh. Oh _shit_.

Derek didn't know a whole lot, had no experience with Omegas in Heat, but there were a few facts that had managed to stick with him from Sex Ed. An Omega's first Heat was generally shorter as their hormones leveled and their bodies changed. And during this adjustment period—usually four to six months, sometimes close to a year—an Omega cannot take any form of suppressant as it could do permanent damage to their hormones and cycles. The only thing to do was ride it out, to deal with their Heat the old fashioned way. They could get themselves off, use their fingers or a toy, but an Alpha's presence—and their knot especially—was the best thing for them.

Derek's cock twitched and his knot throbbed under the skin, volunteering, and he shifted in his seat, clearing his throat. "I could—should I—" He had no clue what the fuck he was about to suggest. He just knew he should get someone else, maybe call Stiles' dad.

Although what Sheriff Stilinski could do from several hours north wasn't entirely clear. Hell, even if the man got in his car right that minute and flashed his lights and siren all the way down here, by the time he arrived, Stiles' Heat may be over. Or it could be worse and the Omega would be in no state to travel so they'd both be stuck, awkwardly alone in a hotel room.

Right, better to hold off. Although part of Derek honestly believed that he should at least let the elder Alpha know what was going on with his son...

A pained groan tore him from his thoughts and he turned to see Stiles clutching his stomach as he toppled over to his side, knees pulled up to his chest. Whines left the Omega, body trembling all over, and Derek knew it wasn't from his half-naked state. No, he was slipping further under, the arousal in his scent getting stronger and his...

Oh _fuck_ , that was definitely a damp patch at the back of his pajama pants. He was wet, leaking, and Derek...

Derek shot up to his feet, hands fisting at his sides as he struggled not to touch, eyes darting about the room as he struggled not to stare. "I'm gonna go get—" He trailed off again, not entirely sure what he was gonna get. Maybe Mr Yukimura? He might know what to do, or at least have a better clue about this shit than Stiles. His daughter was an Omega so he had to know _something_ , right?

A sweaty hand wrapped around his wrist, squeezing desperately, blunt nails digging into tendons and making him hiss. Derek followed the sight of long digits encircling him, up a pale forearm, lean biceps, to...

To a face that was practically pleading with him. Stiles' eyes were wide and desperate, brow pulled, lips turned down as whimpers left him. "Please," he panted out, rolling onto his back and tugging fruitlessly at Derek's arm. "I—I want." He paused, swallowed thickly. "I want you to take care of me. Knot me. Please."

Oh Derek was so fucked it was ridiculous.

He roughed a hand over his face, scrubbed at the whiskers over his jaw. He...he shouldn't. This was just the Heat talking, just Omega instincts responding to a nearby available Alpha. If it were anyone else in Derek's place, Stiles would be making the same request, would be staring up with those same pleading Bambi eyes. It had nothing to do with Derek and everything to do with what was between his legs.

Said body part between said legs jerked like it had no problem with that but Derek's heart sank at the knowledge and he had to tear his gaze away, had to dig his nails into his palms in order to clear his mind from the fog Stiles' word and scent had created.

"I'm gonna go ge—"

"No!" Stiles now gripped Derek's wrist with both hands using them to pull himself up, desperation making his voice crack. And damn him, if Derek didn't peek out the corner of his eye to find the Omega staring up with an even more despairing expression. "I want _you_. I've wanted you for a while and I'm pretty sure sharing a room with you and your stupid masculine scent is what triggered this so." He paused, shrugged a shoulder, then peered up at Derek from under long lashes. "Take responsibility."

Oh god damn him. Honestly. Little asshole.

"Stiles." The name was wretched from him on a groan as his resolve took a hit and he shut his eyes tight so he could no longer see the tempting look on Stiles' face, so he at least stood a fighting chance. "Trust me, you don't want me to. I'd have no clue what the hell to do or how to—"

"I don't know either," Stiles interrupted. "Furthest I've gone was making out with a couple girls."

The words were innocent and meant to be reassuring yet...

Yet a growl rumbled up from Derek's chest, jealousy an ugly monster gnawing at his nerves, and he wanted to tear into whoever those bitches were for thinking they could touch what was his.

Not that Stiles was his or anything. Not that Stiles was property at all really. Not that violent behavior like that was acceptable.

Still. Derek couldn't help how he felt or how his instincts played up. It was part and parcel to his crush and he'd be an idiot to act like it didn't exist. Didn't mean he'd admit any of that out loud of course.

Stiles began nuzzling his hand, letting out soft needy whines that had Derek's resolve further weakening, and the Alpha peered down to find pleading eyes watching him once more.

"Please," he whispered, lips dragging against the side of Derek's hand. "I trust you. And I want you. I—I _need_ you."

Derek breathed out another swear, absently wondering when he became such a potty mouth. Thinking about his recent foray into profanities was better than thinking about how soft Stiles' lips felt and the way it made his skin tingle, or how hot he was where he touched Derek, or how goddamn good he smelled, arousal outweighing the distress as his Heat wore on. Derek couldn't leave at that point. Any Alpha wandering by would smell it, smell _him_ , and it wouldn't take much for a feral and desperate Alpha to break down the door and assault a needy Omega. As the closest Alpha friend Stiles had at that moment, it was up to Derek to protect and take care of him.

And given what Stiles had just stated, Stiles wanted Derek to take care of him in the old school definition of the word.

Damn Derek if he wasn't tempted. And damn if he didn't realize that... that there wasn't really anything holding him back.

Sure, Stiles' head was a little Heat-addled but he seemed lucid enough. Worse case scenario, Stiles came out of it with regrets and stopped talking to Derek but at least the Alpha would have good memories of the time they'd spent together.

At least he hoped that was the worst case scenario.

A tugging was felt at his hand, Stiles trying to pull Derek down on top, but the Alpha's strength meant he didn't budge. Just... swallowed hard and scented the air for any sign of uncertainty.

"You sure?"

Stiles gave him a crooked grin. "Never been more sure in my life."

And with that, Derek completely folded, gave in to the Omega staring up at him with Bambi eyes. Swallowing hard, he nodded, rasped out an "okay", as everything in his body began to tingle and race and flip. His palms grew sweaty with nerves, hands trembling, and he honestly had no idea what the hell to do next.

Get in the bed, maybe? Or maybe he should take off his pajamas first? Should he let Stiles take those off for him? Should they only undress themselves, since Stiles had already started removing his clothes before Derek even woke up?

Oh god he was so very, very unprepared for all of this.

Stiles' smile grew fractionally, relief making his shoulders sag for a moment, before his own nerves got the best of him, too. He took a shuddering breath, loud in the otherwise silent hotel room, then released the death grip he'd still had on Derek's wrist. Ducking his head, he laid back on his pillows then slid his thumbs under the waistband of his pants. Derek was completely entranced by those long digits as they gripped the elastic and pushed, flannel being shoved down long legs unceremoniously.

The first thing to hit Derek was the smell, maple bourbon and spice, almost a cinnamon tinge to it that signaled Stiles' arousal. It went straight to Derek's cock, taking hold like a grip and controlling him. His hips bucked and pre began to leak profusely, the front of his sweats now featuring a rather noticeable wet spot where the glans was located.

Next were pale legs, a result of Stiles wearing jeans and khakis practically year round. They were long and lanky, yet strong, defined calves and thigh muscles formed by hours of lacrosse. The hair covering them was thin and lightly colored, almost unnoticeable, typical of a male Omega really, and the insides of his thighs were wet and shiny, slick coating them, leading Derek's eyes straight to...

Stiles' cock was small, another Omegan trait, but hard, red, leaking though not as much as Derek's. It twitched under the Alpha's gaze, bobbing with Stiles' shuddering pants, and Derek was hit with the urge to take it in his mouth.

Couldn't hurt, right? After all, orgasms were supposed to help—at least he was pretty sure they were. An Alpha knotting and coming inside was obviously the best remedy, but Stiles wasn't physically ready for that yet, so in the meantime...

In the meantime, Derek could help him take the edge off a little.

Moving down, Derek climbed onto the bed, knee walking between Stiles' legs. The Omega spread them on automatic, on instinct, hips rolling in a tempting offer as his scent began saturating the air once more. His teeth sank into his bottom lip, head propped up on his pillows, eyes fixated on Derek as he lay down on his stomach. That had Stiles' brow furrowing and he opened his mouth to question, only no words came out. Just a shuddering gasp as Derek took him in his mouth.

Derek honestly wasn't entirely sure what he was expecting it to feel like, taste like. It wasn't a heavy weight like all the romance novels would lead one to believe—but then again, romance novels tended to only feature blow jobs given to Alphas, something that Stiles had ranted about as being subliminal brainwashing to program Omegas into enjoying giving oral. Maybe it was because Stiles wasn't all that big. It tasted mostly of sweat and skin, a dark sweetness from his precome, not the best taste in the world but not horrible either. Derek could see the appeal though and definitely wouldn't mind doing it again.

If Stiles was involved of course.

He gave the head an experimental suck, making Stiles keen and arch his back, his breaths returning to pants. Next he tried rolling his tongue along the bottom as he took more in, remembering tips about relaxing his throat and angling his head and other bullshit that would stop his gag reflex from being triggered. Granted he couldn't remember _where_ he'd learned any of that shit...

Not that it really mattered, not with Stiles crying out and struggling for air, his hands fisting the sheet on either side of him, nonsense half-syllables huffing out as he struggled to form words. Derek was pretty sure his name was supposed to be in there, judging by the "Duh, Deh, Der" that was coming from him and he took it as a sign he was doing an okay job for his first time.

"I'm gon—go—gon—" Stiles' words were cut off by whines and whimpers until suddenly...

The force of his come hitting the back of Derek's throat made the Alpha cough and he pulled off, the rest of it hitting him on his chin, his jaw, his neck. Part of him wished he wasn't so busy hacking and recovering to have the foresight to angle his head and neck just so in order to have it land on his scent glands, marking him, covering Derek's scent with his own.

Damn. Next time.

If there'd even be a next time.

Then again the guy was in Heat so a "next time" felt almost inevitable.

Recovered, Derek peered up to find Stiles still heaving, the ruddiness in his cheeks and on his chest more pronounced now, dull golden eyes half-lidded and staring right back at him.

"Sorry," he apologized and Derek shook his head, wiping the mess off his face with his fingers.

No need to resist the urge really, he figured, licking it off and letting out a pleased hum at the taste. _Much_ better than his cock and nowhere near as bad as the horror stories he'd heard from others.

Stiles groaned and Derek turned his attention back to find him rolling his hips, head pressing back against the pillow. "Fuck you, you are way too sexy for my health," he grumbled and the Alpha chuckled before self-consciousness took over.

Because Stiles' Heat was only temporarily abated. It would be coming back, and stronger too, rendering the Omega practically useless as his brain simmered down to nothing but a need to be filled and knotted and bred. The lucidity he was experiencing was only temporary and with no clue how long it would last, they needed to start figuring shit out _immediately_.

"Do you need me to call anyone?" Derek offered as he rose up so he was sitting with his legs tucked under himself, part of his beard starting to feel tacky from the come left behind.

Stiles blanched at that and shook his head vehemently. "God, no. Besides, s'not like anyone can do anything. Only one I want helping me is you." The words were spoken so earnestly that Derek had no choice but to believe.

Still, consent was king and he had to make sure of everything. Even though it felt like torture to ask. "How d'ya want me to help?"

Embarrassment was a bitter note in Stiles' scent, face flushing for reasons other than arousal now, and he ducked down, unable to keep any sort of eye contact. "Already told you," he muttered.

"You were a little out of it."

"Still feel out of it." He rubbed at an eye with the heel of his hand, Derek making an agreeing hum, Stiles sighing before continuing. "Want you to knot me. And it's not just the Heat making me want it." He lifted his eyes at that, warm chocolate brown now, and Derek felt his heart thump loud and hard as they met his green ones.

Fuck. This Omega was gonna be the death of him.

He swallowed hard and nodded, awkwardness heating up his ears and hand wringing the back of his neck. "How d'ya want me then? Like, d'you want me on top or d'you wanna ride me or d'you want it from behind—?"

"Der?"

His name was spoken softly and he raised his line of sight from Stiles' navel to his eyes once more.

God he was beautiful.

"Can you just. Kiss me? To start?"

Oh six-pound-eight-ounce baby Jesus he could totally do that.

Surging up, he put his hands on either side of Stiles' head, holding himself on all fours. Then, with one last look at the Omega, at the way his tremulous breath shuddered out from between his parted lips and the way he seemed to quiver all over and the way his eyes darted down to Derek's lips, he lowered his head and kissed him.

They didn't touch, save for their lips, and while it should've felt awkward given the circumstances, it didn't. This was one thing Derek knew how to do, this was one thing that didn't overwhelm him when he fantasized over doing this with Stiles. Lips moving in a simple, well-practiced way, like he'd done hundreds of times with his ex.

Only it never felt like this.

Yeah, it had felt good but never right. Not that it had felt wrong either but... But kissing Stiles felt like he was meant to be kissing Stiles. It felt like his lips were specifically designed to fit against the way Stiles' were shaped. It felt too dumb and cheesy to be thinking about things like "meant to be" and "made for each other" and "fated", especially since they weren't together and the only reason why they were even kissing in the first place was because Stiles' Heat had unexpectedly popped up outta nowhere. And yet...

Derek pulled away when Stiles' groans grew louder and the arousal in his scent grew stronger and neither were able to be ignored. He didn't want the Omega delving too deep into another wave of Heat, not yet, not when he wasn't ready.

He was pretty sure he had to get him ready. Biology said he had to, right? That Omegas had to be stretched, even during Heat. Yeah, their bodies were more lax and open and naturally stretched but not enough, especially not the first time they're knotted. Especially not during a first Heat.

"Um," Derek tried as he sat back on his heels once more, roughing a hand through his hair then huffing. "I guess—I don't—" Another huff. Why was all of this so goddamn hard? His cock included, he realized, feeling it throb inside his sweats again.

Stiles shifted, rolled onto his stomach, flailing limbs just barely missing kicking Derek in the face. He raised himself up onto his hands and knees then let out a shuddering breath before peering over his shoulder at Derek. "Just felt like this is how I should be."

Okay. Well, instincts were generally right and it was dumb to ignore them so...

Derek scratched at his whiskered jaw as he shrugged in a "fair 'nuff" manner before turning his attention down Stiles' spine. His ass was pale, smooth, round, the latter of which he'd had a feeling about giving all the glances of it he'd stolen over the years. He reached out with both hands, squeezing the fleshy globes, parting them, revealing the secret place he longed to delve into. Slick made the crevice shine, leaking from a hole that was already winking open at him. So fucking tempting. And Stiles had asked Derek to take care of him, service him in his time of need.

He literally couldn't deny him.

And since an orgasm had helped clear his mind before...

No. Terrible idea. Maybe later but right now, Derek had more important things to do—even if eating Stiles out felt like the most important thing he could ever do, in his own mind at least. Holding his cheeks spread with one hand, Derek rubbed his index finger over Stiles' hole, making the Omega inhale sharply in surprise. Derek tried to think of whatever advice or tips he'd somehow picked up, about how he had to make sure the Omega was loose and soft before inserting anything but... But Stiles already felt pretty loose and soft, was already opening up under his touch. Hell, if he wasn't careful, his finger would accidentally slip in without his meaning to.

So maybe he should mean to do it.

He switched to his middle finger, thinking it would work better given it was thicker, longer, then curled it at the right angle in order to slide it inside. Stiles gasped once more, body tensing and jerking away from the invasion, but Derek held onto his hip tight and kept him still, relishing the way the Omega went limp as he let out a shuddering exhale the more he was breached.

And fuck if Derek didn't feel like shuddering all over, too.

Stiles had relaxed enough to let him slide his finger further inside but he was still tight, still clasped onto the digit hard. And he was wet, so very fucking wet, a fresh wave of slick flooding his channel in pleasure of being filled—even if it wasn't quite what he wanted. Combined with how warm he was inside and Derek was biting his lip to hold back a groan, bucking his hips in a thrust as he stood on his knees.

Jesus Christ, he was gonna be putting his dick in here, his knot. His cock throbbed dangerously at the thought, spine tingling and balls tensing up. Shit, no, no, not now. The last thing he needed to do was come already. He had to make it last, had to service Stiles and take care of him and make sure he was satisfied. His own needs don't matter.

Gripping his cock to hold off an orgasm, he held Stiles spread open as best he could with one hand and began moving his middle finger in and out. Derek pulled and tugged at the tight rim to stretch him out, trying to keep his thoughts purely on the mechanics of things, but Stiles wasn't making his job easy. The Omega's scent was getting stronger, thicker, little huffs escaping him as he dropped into his elbows, spine arching.

Fucking beautiful.

It wasn't long until he was loose enough to fit a second finger, to stretch and scissor and ply him open. The tips of his fingers grazed against something more ridged than smooth and Stiles jolted in response, scent spiking.

Oh.

Experimentally, Derek tapped against that same spot, Stiles jerking and gasping like before, like he'd been hit by electricity or something. The reaction had Derek tightening his hold on his cock as he felt his orgasm build again, Stiles whining and shaking his head where it was pressed against the mattress.

"Too much," he muttered, words muffled. "Sto—too much."

"Sorry," Derek replied, not even a little remorseful, wondering if he could play with the Omega's prostate later on as his Heat progressed.

Or maybe later on down the line, sometime in the future, when activities weren't being driven by Heats or Ruts and Derek could take his time, could slowly play with the Omega, make him cry and beg and moan and—

And he needed to cut that train of thought off right the fuck now.

Another sharp squeeze to his cock then Derek returned to the task at hand, opening Stiles up, sliding a third finger inside and making him gasp and squirm the way he had before. Fuck, so wet, so tight, Stiles automatically clenching as though trying to keep him inside.

His knot was gonna feel fucking incredible in there.

Derek worked him up to four fingers, probably overly cautious but it was Stiles' first time. Better safe than sorry. He kept all his senses focused on the Omega before him, taking note of any changes in his scent, watching the sheen of sweat forming on his skin, feeling the way he trembled and opened up. He was huffing out little noises, keening and whining, getting more and more worked up as his Heat began to take control once more.

"Der," he whimpered and the Alpha damn near shot his load off right there and then.

"Everything okay?" Derek double-checked, leaning over just enough to try and get a peek at a still hidden face.

Then suddenly Stiles turned his head and met Derek's eyes with glowing gold ones, cheeks ruddy, face sweaty, lips parted as he panted. His fingers were near his mouth as though he wanted something inside and Derek fought them temptation of replacing it with his own hand, his cock.

"Need id," Stiles slurred, eyes half lidded and body squirming. "Nee—wan—wan' your knod."

His Heat was clearly taking over once more and Derek was helpless to do anything but nod. He carefully slipped his fingers out, trying his best to ignore the groan at the motion and the whine at being empty that were both coming from Stiles, instead moving to stand beside the bed. Stripping took great care, his dick harder than it had ever been, a dark red and soaked with precome that was dripping down to his drawn up balls, ready to explode. His hand wrapped around the base again, a tight ring he tried not to imagine as anything else, and when he raised his head, he caught Stiles staring at it, wide eyed, a slightly worried tinge to his scent now.

Right. Because Derek was a _whole_ lot bigger than his fingers. Alphas were already well-endowed, a necessity as breeders, and Derek definitely fell into the higher range of things.

This had just gotten even more complicated.

"Um," he began, scratching his jaw with his free hand. "Maybe. Maybe I should lay down?" he suggested, unsure, glancing over to Stiles' inquisitive face. "I mean, that way you, uh, you can control the, the, the. Ya know?"

Lame. So lame. His ears were on fucking fire from on it.

At least he wasn't the only one living up to the "blushing virgin" cliche, Stiles' face growing ruddy from something other than arousal and his building Heat. But still, the Omega nodded, pushing himself up and to the side, sitting with his legs folded to his left in an attempt at modestly.

Feeling self-conscious himself, Derek covered his crotch with his hands and awkwardly sat on the bed, fluffing the pillows with one hand to prop himself up in a half-lounging position. Once he was settled, Stiles maneuvered himself so he was kneeling on either side of Derek's hips, the Alpha moving his hands to... to flutter about as he tried to figure out where to put them. Should he—should he help hold Stiles steady? Hold him open? Hold his own cock up and aim it?

So. Fucking. Lame.

"Um." Stiles let out an awkward laugh, hand twitching and hesitating before gently curving over the round of Derek's shoulder. His skin was hot as his temperature began to rise once more and Derek knew instinctively that it wasn't gonna be long before Stiles was swept up in his hormones and out of it again.

"Can you maybe—" Stiles tried again, failed again, lips twitching in a near grimace before taking hold of Derek's wrists and moving his hands.

To his ass.

Okay, that solved that problem, answered that question. Apparently Derek was to hold him open. He had zero issues with that, squeezing the fleshy globes he'd had his eyes on for years.

So soft. So nice. So much better than he'd imagined.

An awkward, nervous smile played on Stiles' lips and he reached down to wrap a hand around Derek's cock. The Alpha's hips bucked in response as a gasp rushed out, pleasure racing up his spine and fuck, he damn near came from just that touch alone, the first touch from anyone other than himself.

God, if that was just his hand...

Okay, right, time to think of something else, all those old cliches about baseball and nuns and nothing even vaguely pleasurable or arousing. Derek needed to stave it off, to make sure he didn't peak too soon but also not think anything too bad or gross to where he'd completely go soft. Not that he thought that was possible with how good Stiles smelled and how hot his skin was and the way—

Shit! Right, baseball. Spring training was happening, college ball right around the corner. He should look up schedules and—

And oh fuck, that was something touching his tip, something wet and slick and oh _fuck_.

Opening his eyes, Derek took in the mesmerizing sight of Stiles' drawn brow and blown pupils and teeth sinking into his bottom lip. A whimper was being pulled from him, fingers digging into Derek's shoulder, body trembling from pleasure and exertion. And the scent...

He kept his grip on Stiles' cheeks gentle, fought to keep his hips against the bed and not thrust up in the way his instincts were demanding he do. The Alpha part of him was screaming to flip them over, to get the Omega on his hands and knees and _mount_ , to claim and mate and fuck and knot and sink his teeth into the side of his neck, right over that scent gland that was currently working overtime and driving Derek absolutely mad.

So unfair.

Yet Derek knew there was more to sex with an Omega than a claim, than a baby maker—despite the fertile scent rolling off him in waves. This wasn't about him, but about Stiles, helping ease his Heat and giving him what he wanted. After all, it was called " _servicing_ an Omega" for a reason.

So he kept still, thighs trembling as he held back, his breathing just as shaky as Stiles', the Omega slowly lowering himself centimeter by centimeter, hissing when the glans popped inside.

"Sorry," Derek said on automatic and Stiles shook his head but said nothing, releasing his hold on the Alpha's cock in favor of grabbing onto his other shoulder.

More slow going, more taking his time as he lowered, more Derek gritting his teeth as he fought himself. When Stiles hit the halfway point, he changed tactics and practically slammed the rest of the way down, both of them crying out: Stiles in pain, Derek in suddenly being surrounded—and a little bit of his hands being squished against his own thighs. Sitting up straighter, he moved his hands to Stiles' hips and just _breathed_ their foreheads coming together as they tried to adjust.

Fuck, there were truly no words for how it felt. Hot and tight and wet, soft yet firm, silky and velvety and oh god now Stiles was _squeezing_ and his walls were rippling and massaging and, and, and...

"Shit, I'm not gonna last," Derek confessed, almost whining at how good the whole thing felt. Every thought in his mind disappeared until there was nothing left but how amazing it felt to be inside this Omega and how badly he wanted to come.

Which... was bad? He was pretty sure. Couldn't remember why though...

"Is okay," Stiles slurred, his arms snaking around Derek's neck and bringing them closer together, sweat slick chests meeting, exhaled breaths mingling. "Don' thind I'mma las' eiver."

Derek was pretty sure it was English and was pretty sure about what it meant and was honestly somewhat relieved. He wasn't gonna be the only pathetic virgin about to blow too soon, living up to statistics and stereotypes once more.

But the next round...

Pulling back, he searched Stiles' face, bringing his hand up to sweep through the hair at the side of his head. "You okay?"

A nod and a soft smile was his answer and Derek gave in to one urge he'd been holding back on: he kissed Stiles. He pressed their lips together, tasted the Omega with a slip of the tongue, tried hard to convey everything he was thinking and feeling.

This is amazing and I never wanna stop.

I can't imagine doing this with anyone else.

It feels like we're supposed to fit together this way.

I love you.

Hesitantly Stiles rocked his hips, testing, trying. Derek breathed an "it's okay" before reconnecting their lips, allowing his own pelvis to roll in small increments, letting Stiles control the pace. It was a slow roll that gradually sped up, the Omega's long arms sliding down and slipping around Derek's torso to grab at his back and shoulders that way. Breathing became harder, harsher, their lips parting but foreheads joining. They held one another in a desperate grasp, Derek bending his knees enough to cradle Stiles close and gain more leverage.

Rise and fall, rise and fall, harsh pants and strained whines and raspy moans. Names were cried out, backs were scratched, collarbones were bitten. It was a strange mix of too much and not enough, need to get off and want to never end this.

So good, so good, so... getting close.

"Der," Stiles whined and Derek just nodded, knowing what he was saying without words being spoken.

"Me, too."

The Omega's channel grew wetter, slicker, his knot expanded, and Stiles had to bear down to fit him inside. And when he was no longer able to pull out, when hips began grinding rather than pushing, when Stiles began shaking and huffing and keening...

It wasn't at the same time, wasn't the romantic cliche of various romance novels. It was close though. Stiles' channel rippled and convulsed as his cock shot between their torsos, painting them both. Derek's mind flooded with staticky feelings and the realization that he'd been marked by the Omega, that everyone was gonna know what they'd gotten up to in that hotel room.

And he came hard.

Better than any orgasm he'd given himself, better than when he'd first popped a knot, better than when he'd first discovered his dick was for more than just taking a leak. The wet heat squeezing and massaging his knot was something he'd never experienced, something he'd never be able to replicate. The feeling of the Omega in his arms quivering with each jet that streaked inside of him as the Alpha filled him. The satisfaction that came with the knowledge of having knotted the Omega up, claimed him, scent marked him, bred him—probably not but there was no telling the Alpha part of him that.

Whatever. Didn't matter. What mattered was that he had his arms and lap full of collapsed, panting Omega who reeked of pleasure and his own satisfaction. His chest puffed up in pride at a job well done as he held Stiles close, as he rubbed his hands over bare sweaty skin, as he pressed kisses to the top of his head. Life didn't get better than this, he decided. It wasn't possible.

Okay, maybe it was totally possible and could totally get better, Derek realized with a frown, pressing his lips to Stiles' shoulder and keeping them there. They were doing this all wrong, out of order, but...

But...

But... It wasn't that it _needed_ to be said, however... He was gonna say it anyway.

"I know this is all outta order considering everything we just did," he started softly, feeling Stiles minutely shift to show he was awake and listening. "But, uh. I like yo—I love you. I have for a while. And it's totally fine if you don't feel the same way, nothing has to change, I'll keep helping you in your Heat and when we get back to Beacon Hills, we'll just continue on as we had been."

A soft laugh gusted against his neck and Derek scowled. Okay, he'd known his feelings may not be returned but laughing at him seemed a bit far-fetched. Not to mention rude as fuck, especially considering how Derek was helping him out during a pretty goddamn desperate moment in life.

Raising his head, Stiles looked at him with sparkling eyes crinkled by a grin. Yet his scent wasn't malicious or mean or aggravated. No, it was... pleased, grateful, relieved even...

Which...

Huh.

Long fingers wrapped around the back of his neck, tickled at his scent gland, and Derek felt like baring it, like offering it up to Stiles to mark or rip out, whichever he'd choose.

"I love you, too," Stiles assured, bringing their foreheads together once more. "I wouldn't do this with anyone else, no matter how far into my Heat I was."

Derek wanted to argue that point, that from what he knew, deep in a Heat, Omegas tended not to care who relieved them—barring family members of course—and with this being Stiles' first one, he couldn't say for one-hundred percent certainty that he wouldn't give in in that same way.

But Stiles kissed him and all thoughts left his head except for how right this felt, how good, and how... How Stiles loved him back.

Derek smiled wide into the kiss and kept his Omega close, feeling Stiles' hips begin to move as he geared up for the next round.

It was gonna be a much longer weekend than originally anticipated.

~*~*~*~*~*~

When Stiles had crashed while being knotted for the second time, Derek snatched up his phone and sent various texts to various people, explaining the situation to Mr Yukimura, Stiles' dad, his own mom, Lydia, and Scott. He also called the front desk to arrange for a longer stay, giving them the credit card info his mom had provided him with and being thankful the clerk was understanding about what was happening—apparently not the first time someone had sprung into a surprise Heat or Rut. Luckily there was no need for them to have to vacate at their original check-out date or shortage of rooms, allowing the Alpha to relax and focus on taking care of his Omega.

They missed the rally, but made plans to attend the next, even if it was just the two of them. And in the meantime, they spent the next few days learning one another's bodies, discovering that Stiles preferred to be pinned down and have his hair pulled while Derek enjoyed being scratched and bitten. And all the while, Derek found himself falling for this Omega even more and knowing that he would do absolutely anything for Stiles.


End file.
